


One Year Later

by footlooseandfancybe



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:51:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footlooseandfancybe/pseuds/footlooseandfancybe
Summary: What is this new threat posed to the valiant members of the Pine Guard?! In which Aubrey's always had her groove, Duck goes head over heels, and Ned makes a confession.





	1. Chapter 1

_200 Days Later... ___  
Duck Newton sits on his porch, the gentle but cold wind blowing around stray hairs that've escaped an otherwise neat and tidy bun on the back of his head. It's the first truly bearable spring day, and he intends to start it the right way: coffee on the porch with the cat.  
  
A good day definitely does _not _start with a talking sword haranguing its owner about the state of his kitchen. Firstly, Duck does not abide a disorderly room, and secondly, the thing doesn't even have a nose.__  
  
Altogether, life is steady. Sure his job keeps him busy, what with the late hours and the pest control and the paperwork, but since Aubrey and Momma's stay in the hospital last summer, none of the Pine Guard had been seriously injured. It's one of just three reasons that keep him going back.  
  
"Mornin' Ranger Newton! Fine weather we're havin' for April huh?" A familiar voice calls out from the front gate. It's Farley, the mailman, slotting Duck's mail neatly into his mailbox. "Reckon the snow'll disappear in the next week," is Duck's agreement. Farley laughs a little, really more like an odd gurgle in his throat. "Guess I gotta defer to you, Mr. Science Ranger Man! Well anyway, goodbye!" The mailman replies sarcastically, and turns sharply away from Duck's house. Farley has been delivering the mail on Stone Stop Lane for going on fifteen years, and while he and Duck might not be bosom friends, Farley is perennially cheerful and affable. Never so cantankerous.  
  
Duck stares at the man's retreating back. It's fortunate he does, otherwise he might have missed the long black shadow that rises up from the concrete, hovers in place a moment, and zips after Farley. Duck sits a spell, fairly certain he's making a 'thinking cap' face, as Aubrey puts it, before commenting to the cat "I don't believe you see that every day."  


  
Aubrey Little loves her life. No, seriously, her life is really great! Awesome digs, magic powers, being in a cool gang, a girlfriend, keeping Dr. Bonkers, magic powers, Barclay's cooking, did she mention the magic powers?  
  
No matter how many times she says it, it still somehow doesn't make sense. It's like _maybe_ her powers have something to do with the Flamebright Pendant? Or maybe the powers are genetic or a fluke or-and Aubrey only really lets this potential enter her brain late at night-she isn't actually from this side of the Gate. Aubrey guesses that that's what it really boils down to: she wants to know where she's from.  
  
"Pull!" Aubrey cries, and a tiny, brightly colored object flies high into the air. She takes aim, remembering the pitching tricks Ned's taught her, and snaps her fingers. A ball of fire bullets towards the thing and a moment later a loud *pop* echoes around the quarry, with faintly visible sparks and pinwheels. This is her favorite target practice. She isn't okay with using Momma's target range that had all kinds of cut-outs of monsters, because what if they finally do meet a good Bom-Bom? That would be super awkward to explain.  
  
"That's all of them, sorry Aubrey," Dani's faint voice comes from a dozen yards away. "It's okay, I'm kinda tired anyway," Aubrey calls back before taking a huge swig of Hi-C from her water bottle. Dani grimaces as she walks up, and Aubrey can't help but laugh.  
  
"Gatoraide is so much better for you," Dani gripes as they sit on the tailgate of Momma's borrowed truck, swinging their feet and keeping close against the chilly April breeze. "But I'm not actually exercising, Dani. There's nothing wrong with this situation," Aubrey explains again and puts an arm around her girlfriend. Dani snuggles closer and replies "nothing wrong?! What kind of miscreant puts Hi-C in a _water bottle!_ " Aubrey giggles and plants a kiss on Dani's mouth. "Bleh, and now you have Hi-C breath!" Dani exclaims, but she's also laughing.  
  
  
Ned can't believe he's going to say this, but the Cryptonomica has too many visitors. He doesn't dare leave his back room for fear of being crushed--okay, well, that's maybe not entirely true. But after a long quiet winter, ten customers at once is fairly overwhelming. He pokes his head out the door and whispers "Kirby, are there any means of, politely, perhaps encouraging these fine, fine people to-"  
  
"Buy their shit and go? Y'know that's not how it works, Ned. You gotta coax 'em into relaxin', havin' a good time, so they want to come back," Kirby says somewhat testily. Ned can't imagine Kirby becoming annoyed with _him_ , it must be the young girl in the corner who Ned can just _sense_ is going to touch that rare mothman pelt.  
  
"I would never say it so indelicately! However that girl is going to hear several indelicate words if she-" Kirby flaps a hand at Ned. "No, no, don't do that. I will go take care of it," he snaps, and leaves the counter. Ned gives a self-righteous nod and retreats into the back room.  
  
It was a long, cold winter here in Kepler. Too many light nights, too many close calls, and Ned feels older than his 51 years on this earth. Truth be told, he's not really even sure why he's in the Pine Guard to begin with. Why he's tempting fate, playing with fire, whatever you wanted to call it.  



	2. Chapter 2

  
The Green Bank Radio Telescope is the reason for it all. Why the Green Bank Public Library only has dial-up, why every house has a landline, why electrical problems are fixed as soon as they happen. The background hum of the universe is louder here than almost anywhere else in the world, that must be why the forest presses close, the stars glitter like diamonds, and the air carries no hint of human corruption.  
  
That, anyway, is the reason the scientists at the Observatory give themselves for why the Monongahela National Forest feels watchful, and the sky is so dark at night, and the air always feels clean and fresh. Perhaps if they knew the three slabs of stone, arranged as a simple gateway, deep in the forest exist and sometimes glow fever bright, allowing things to pass through, they could understand better the nature of the world.  
  
But they don't, so they can't.  
  
Dr. Ainsley Taubman is on their third cup of coffee when they get the call from the Weather Service office in Charleston. The office seems to be having difficulties with an unknown low-band radio signal coming from the national forest, has Dr. Taubman or the Patrol picked up anything at all? Dr. Taubman doesn't know anything about this unknown signal, that no one has contacted them about a change in the observatory's monitoring schedule, but they'll look into it.  
  
Several baffling and inconclusive phone calls later, Taubman is almost ready to write off the whole thing as a wild goose chase. However, that is not how scientific discoveries are made. If they know anything about history, it's that the people who go the extra mile are the ones who end up learning the most. And quite frankly, what are you even _doing_ with your life if you aren't learning?  
  
Dale at the weather service said the signal seems to be coming from a location roughly ten miles north easterly from the observatory. A quick Google shows that no hiking trails run through the area, but of course that doesn't rule out backcountry hikers.  
  
"Hello Taubman, ready for lunch?" The grizzled face of Dr. Eze peers around Taubman's cubicle wall. "I am, should we go outside?" Taubman suggests, knowing Eze is very glad the winter weather is almost over. Indeed, he beams at Taubman and starts to bustle away, lunchbox already in hand. Taubman is....alright, with the outdoors. Not great, but they can enjoy a picnic like a normal person, thank you very much. They retrieve their packed lunch from the desk and easily catch up with Dr. Eze.  
  
"Eze, you love MNF, do you know any of the Rangers over there?" Ainsley asks casually once they've finished their lunch. Dr. Eze rattles off a list of names breezily around his mouthful of PB &J. "Okay, how about, rangers who work in a ten mile parabola north and east of here?" Eze thinks for a moment. "Well, funnily enough there's just one ranger station up that way, pretty small staff. The head ranger is, Newton, something Newton. Dick? Dave? Dale? Something like that. Why do you ask?" Taubman explains briefly the difficulties the weather service has been having with the signal that somehow isn't showing up on the patrol radars.  
  
"Fascinating! Please let me know what you discover, this may be more complex than simply faulty equipment," Eze exclaims. Taubman grins back and says "So what's the number for this 'Dick Newton'?"  
  
  
  
  
"....and then he tried to claim it was his! Honestly, can you believe the nerve?" Juno exclaims as she angrily types away at a report on her computer. Duck is only vaguely aware that his coworker is still talking to him, but his encounter with Farley is occupying his thoughts at the moment, despite his firmest rule: Duck's role in the Pine Guard will never take precedence or interfere with his job, mentally or physically. Seeing as Duck is not an easy man to do harm to, the physical part is not the difficult one. It's keeping his mind focused on being a forestry ranger, not letting the bizarre and the dangerous take away from the joys of working in the park.  
  
"Duck? Hello? Duck we were talking, what's the matter?"  
  
"Juno, I'm so sorry, got a bit on my mind this morning-" that's as far as he gets before his desk phone rings. He's not sorry to pick it up, Ranger Devine's stories can become long-winded.  
  
"Hello, is this Ranger Newton?" A rich contralto voice speaks in Duck's ear, pleasant despite the crackle of the phone line.  
  
"It is, can I ask who's calling?" Juno looks over, intrigued. It's infrequent that their out-of-the-way station gets a call from someone unknown. It's a quiet office, very few park visitors, particularly in the off-season, and Duck likes it that way.  
  
Dr. Taubman explains about the strange radio signal, and Duck's first reaction is 'some fool hikers that didn't read the dang backcountry hiking manual', and tells the doctor as much. "Ranger Newton, with all due respect, I'm sure you know the woods like the back of your hand," Duck frowns and mouths 'woods?' to himself. Juno's eyebrows go up and she stifles a giggle. "But the patrol claims they don't know anything about this signal. As far as I know, _our_ equipment hasn't picked anything up. Isn't it your duty to ensure these miscreants aren't breaking Quiet Zone restrictions? Or worse, someone is squatting out there? And I assure you, if you find nothing, this will be entirely out of your hands, it'll be up to me to figure out where the signal is coming from."  
  
"You are aware that the area you're describing is roughly ten square miles of dense forest-"  
  
"Interspersed with highways and towns, yes, I looked at Google Maps, but I have a triangulation from the Weather Service, I imagine that will make this much easier," Doctor Taubman interrupts, and lists off the coordinates without missing a beat. Duck's gut twists in anxiety, realizing that the source of the signal isn't too far from the Gate. But this is Duck's job, and nothing will stop Ranger Duck Newton from serving the park and all of its scientific inquiries.  
  
"Alright, Doctor Taubman. I will reconnoiter the area and let you know if I come up with anything. Could I have your office number?" The doctor gives a number and extension, which Duck writes on a kitten sticky note (they're a Christmas present from Ned), thanks Duck once more, then hangs up.  
  
"Who was that? I can't believe they interrupted you like that! And please tell me they didn't actually refer to the thousand plus square mile Monongahela National Forest as 'the woods'?" Juno bursts out, her face a portrait of despair and delight. "Alright now, Juno, it ain't that big a deal. It was a Doctor Taubman, from the Observatory down in Greenbank. They seem to be having difficulty with a radio signal. I'm going down the Old Pike Road to take a look. You," Duck says as he pulls his GPS unit, radio, and compass out of his locker, along with a poncho and his heaviest walking stick. "Are going to stay here and hold the fort down." Juno opens her mouth, then shuts it, turning back to her computer.  
  
"I want to be able to call Doctor Taubman and personally tell them I did my best to track down this problem for 'em. I don't want to foist that responsibility off on someone else, Ranger Devine. We clear?" Duck says calmly as he straps his gear to his belt and grabs the truck keys. "Sure thing, Duck. I get it," Juno replies, but she doesn't look away from her screen.  
  
Duck consoles himself during the drive that he would bring Juno along if it were any other part of the park. Literally any other part of the park, he would love to have some company, do some mentoring, listen to rambling stories. But not this area. No one is going to suffer because he didn't bring Be-  
  
He cuts this train of thought off. No, there will _not_ be anything strange out there. And if he starts carrying that infernal sword everywhere, then he's lost the fight for his sanity. That's a bridge too far for Duck.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Need a supreme without gups and a crazy!" Aubrey calls out. The new cook glares at her and refuses to break eye contact as he takes the ticket and starts laying out the dough. "What a weirdo, what's up with him?" she asks Mel, another waitress at Gino's. Mel sighs and goes back to wiping down an empty table. Aubrey can't understand why her creativity is so unappreciated. Besides, the guy knows exactly what that means! He's already started making the pizza!  
  
Truthfully, Aubrey likes working at Gino's. Somehow, she even likes the mundanity of a regular job that stays in one place. Plus, the management lets the Lady Flame do her act there on Special Saturdays so there's no risk of falling out of practice. Although really, it wasn't something Aubrey sought out herself, it'd been her conscience that made her get the job. Through the careful negotiations of Momma, Aubrey and the owners of the Pine Hill Ski Resort had come to the agreement that she would pay for the damages done to the ski resort, plus a little extra, and the owners wouldn't press charges or let slip who exactly had set fire to their great room.  
  
Aubrey's also satisfied that she's giving Doctor Bonkers a better life with the extra money.  
  
The sound of breaking glass interrupts her thoughts and she tells her coworkers "On it!" and bustles over to the table. "Hey everyone! No need to worry, I've got you covered, just stay put and I'll-"  
  
"How fucking dare you!" The force and anger of the accusation makes Aubrey gasp, and she turns to look at the woman at the table. Except, the woman is glowering hatefully at her table mate, a young man who looks to be her grandson. Right, yes, the cursing woman is most likely 75, give or take a couple years, and Aubrey thought everyone in the south was supposed to be polite?  
  
The young man scoffs, and proceeds to knock _another_ glass off the table. At this point, the entire restaurant is silent, half the patrons staring, despite it being the early dinner rush. Aubrey is used to having all eyes on her, so it's irritation that makes her say "hey! We're not that kind of place! If you can't stop breaking things, I'm going to have to ask you to leave-" now the elderly woman picks up her plate and throws it, face down, to the floor, flecks of spaghetti sauce spattering Aubrey's favorite boots.  
  
Before she can truly process how angry she is, Aubrey's hands are engulfed in flames; thankfully the small kind, not the big scary monster fighting kind. Regardless, she hisses "Shit shit shit!" as she clutches them together and close to her body. A low, rumbling humming noise makes her look up to see the two patrons hungrily leaning towards her, towards her flames. A spasm of fear grips Aubrey's heart but she forces it away, forces her power away, until she knows she just looks like an overly anxious young woman clutching her hands together.  
  
"Ms. Little is quite right, I think it's time you both were leaving," a calm voice comes from behind Aubrey. It's the manager that evening, James. The old woman and the young man glower at him, but rise from their places and leave, without paying for the food or leaving a tip. Aaannndd that's Aubrey's good mood for the evening down the drain  
  
"Y'alright there? You had things in hand, I know, but sometimes it's satisfyin' to kick people out myself," James gives her an easy smile and hands her a broom before stooping to pick up the thrown plate. Aubrey starts to sweep up the glass, jittery hands gripping the broom too hard.  
  
"Do you know them?" Aubrey asks James. "Nope, but I've seen them in here a time or two. Certainly don't intend on getting to know them," James laughs a little. "Okay good, I was going to say you've got some interesting uh, aquaintances," Aubrey says, relieved.  
  
Aubrey doesn't brood, despite her outward goth appearance. And maayyybe that makes her a bad goth, but she just knows that rehashing annoying or dumb stuff distracts from the present and making the future better. But this incident bothers her through the rest of her shift, makes her to look over her shoulder multiple times as she walks to her Subaru. It follows her as she makes a general store run for her usual stack of postcards, Dani's Zumba Goma Mango, and extra food for Dr. Bonkers.  
  
It's when Aubrey's starting her drive back to the Lodge does she realize she's been thinking about the two customers almost continuously, and her jaw aches from clenching her teeth. And that settles it, she's telling Momma about it. Maybe it's just her imagination but-  
  
And that's as far as she gets with that thought, because she's too busy slamming on the brakes to stop from killing Ned Fuckin' Chicane, who's out in the middle of the road, with her goddamn Subaru.  
  
  
  
_Earlier, For Ned...._  
  
Finally, the anticipated hour is nigh--closing time. Ned whistles as he flips the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED' by his own hand. He is a merciful man, never let it be said Ned won't help a fellow human being when he sees one in need, so he does the sweeping and the dusting and rearranging while Kirby collapses at his makeshift desk in the corner. "Hey Ned, you remember how my last idea turned out real great? Here's my next one-- hire another person," Kirby groans as he puts his head on the desk.  
  
"Kirby, I'm surprised at you! I thought you liked being Employee of the Month for a year and a half running! What is this sudden 'slacker' behavior?" Ned jokes as he counts the register. The young man sits up violently and points menacingly at Ned. "Don't joke with me, old man! I slave away in this cold creaky building every week for practically free!" Ned peers at Kirby, surprised and not a little apprehensive at the honesty in his face: this is highly uncharacteristic of the boy.  
  
"No need raise your voice, faithful employee. I'll consider your suggestion. Hey, that's a lot, given we do not operate a suggestion box in this institution," Ned soothes as Kirby continues to scowl. He hasn't been a conman and a grifter for thirty years to not know when someone is off kilter, or about to blow, and Kirby seems to be right on that ledge. Ned calmly and slowly finishes counting the register, the routine of separating the cash giving his mind time to plan a timely and inconspicuous escape.  
  
The front entrance is obviously out, the door to the back room doesn't actually lock, the bathroom doesn't have a window, the back entrance has a fire alarm built in....that leaves (Ned groans internally) the window in the Chicanery.  
  
"I'll put this in the safe and then we'll leave together, eh Kirby? Maybe we should go down to the bar and get a drink?" Ned suggests as he comes from behind the counter. Kirby stares at him wildly, then shoots out of his chair. "Ned! I'm twenty years old! I can't drink at the bar! Maybe you would know that if you ever _paid attention to what I say!_ "  
  
That's Ned's cue, and he leaps for the back room door, slamming it shut behind him to slow his irate employee down. He manages to get the Chicanery door shut and locked just as Kirby slams into it full tilt, and proceeds to start pounding on the door. Clutching the bag of cash to his chest, Ned assesses what he'll absolutely need to get back on the road, and his eye lands on the necklace. A split second hesitation, and Ned shoves it in his pocket and runs to the window.  
  
Ned's tall and broad in the shoulders, but that doesn't stop him shimmying quick as a fish out the window onto the dumpster; he takes off sprinting across the gravel parking lot towards the forest, the proverbial bay outta hell. His lengthy stride is the only thing on his side against Kirby's youth.  
  
Lo and behold, five seconds later, the door of the Cryptonomica bangs open and Kirby is racing after him, shouting profanities and cursing Ned's (nonexistent) children. When he gets a little ways into the forest, Ned drops down a small slope (yes he has the 100 yard radius around the Cryptonomica mapped out) and tucks himself under a huge honeysuckle bush, praying its net-like branches give him enough cover.  
  
Kirby crashes by above him, but Ned doesn't move for a very long time, not until the shadows grow long and the air drops a few degrees. Then he starts a long, freezing slog to Amnesty Lodge. Until of course he accidentally stumbles onto the road and is hit by the Lady Flame's Subaru.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think Ned gets hit by the Subaru due to Griffin collecting on a failed roll.


	3. Chapter 3

Duck steps into a clearing within the triangle of GPS coordinates and considers his options: there's always a standard zig-zag pattern he can take through the area. He could circle the perimeter. Or he could cheat a little on his second rule: his heightened senses are for emergency situations only, to be used when people are in danger or there are Abominations to fight. For a few minutes, Duck listens to chattering squirrels, bird calls, the rustling of critters going about their secret business, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that something was going to find him before he found it.  
  
He manages to before setting off on the first leg of his zig zag through the area. It's just a bunch of delinquent backpackers who decided to buck the rules, and Duck will find them and slap them with a fine, and then everyone leaves the woods uninjured. And untraumatized.  
  
An hour later and Duck's cautiously hopeful that maybe the weather service really doesn't know its head from a hole in the ground, because there's _nothing_ out here except beautiful, pristine, undisturbed forest. He wonders what Doctor Taubman will say when he tells them this. Will they insist he come back out here? Will they read the riot act to the patrol? Duck ponders the thin line of pursuing scientific truth and just passing the buck until--  
  
There. Up ahead, two voices conversing boisterously with music playing scratchily in the background. Duck lets out a breath he feels like he's been holding for the past hour and a half, and heads towards the noise.  
  
"Afternoon, folks. I'm Ranger Newton how--"  
  
"Jesus! Don't sneak up on a guy like that!" says the man sitting on a blanket near the tent, clutching his chest and a tattered copy of 'The Da Vinci Code'. Duck stares at him and says "Not to split hairs with you, sir, but I walked up right in your line of vision, makin' noise the entire way."  
  
At this point, the music cuts off and the second person Duck heard emerges from the tent: just as scruffy and unwashed as Da Vinci Code, but wearing a horribly lurid bandana tied around his teck. "Hey man, were you spying on us?" Bandana asks. Duck leans on his walking stick and rubs a hand across his forehead. "No. And as I was saying, I'm Ranger Newton with the U.S. Forestry Service, how are y'all today? Can I ask your names?" The men tell him their names, and say in that special hippy way that they're doing pretty great.  
  
"Well I can see you're enjoying our great forest, can I ask if you've been provided a backcountry permit and guide?" Da Vinci Code grumbles and sighs, but reaches over to a backpack and pulls out some papers and thrusts them at Duck. He inspects them thoroughly, but not long enough to insult the two men, and hands them back. "Glad to see you're well prepared. Y'all're pretty experienced, I imagine." Duck finds a little idle chatter before the hard questions the best way to diffuse a situation, and it works now, because when he eventually asks the men to comply more strictly with the Quiet Zone rules they agree sheepishly and without complaint.  
  
"Before I go, just to get a feel for this immediate area, are there any issues you'd like to report? I know the bears are starting to come out of hibernation, areas close to the Greenbrier get washed out in the spring melt," Duck asks, steeling himself for another Pidgeon incident or something even worse.  
  
"Nah man. Just the sounds of nature out here," Bandana says confidently, obviously ready to be rid of Duck. Da Vinci Code looks vaguely uncomfortable, and Duck zeroes in on him. "Not to put you in a Scooby-Doo episode, but weird sounds or lights could be indicators of other things. Like squatters or poachers," Duck tells him. Both men stare long enough that Duck shifts uncomfortably. "Y'know, the kids'--"  
  
"No no, honestly, I would love to be in a Scooby-Doo episode! But I haven't seen or heard anything," Bandana reiterates.  
  
"I stay up later than him, though, and I've heard some things," Da Vinci Code admits nervously. Bandana looks betrayed. "Dude! You've been seeing creepy shit and didn't think I wanted to fulfill my life's dream? How could you!" The two begin to argue, but Duck cuts in with "if you don't mind fellas, daylight's waning and I'd rather not have to hike back to my car in the dark." With a final glare, Da Vinci Code turns back to Duck.  
  
"Well, a couple nights ago we were camped by Deer Creek, y'know? And, I dunno, maybe I was, uh, suffering from some _overmedication_ , or dreaming but..." he hesitates again. "Go on, 'M not here to judge you," Duck encourages him. Da Vinci Code takes a deep breath. "It was around midnight, the fire was out, and the moon was insanely bright, bright enough to read by, so I left my tent flap open to keep reading. And, I saw...these.... _things_. Shadows. But, more solid, and they moved really weird, all bendy and undulating. Let me tell you, it freaked the crap out of me, but I didn't--couldn't--move. I was sure they would come after me if I did. After that, I think I might have passed out, because the next thing I know it's morning," he finishes. Duck's eyebrows have been climbing higher and higher with every word out of the backpacker's mouth, and tries to play it off as disbelief, not concern or panic.  
  
"Well. That definitely falls into the category of Scooby Doo--"  
  
"Dude! You didn't tell me? I could've been seeing something cool too if--"  
  
"C'mon man, it wasn't fun, it was scary and some serious paranoia--"  
  
"Gentlemen! Please. Thank you for sharing this with me. I can't really give you an explanation, other than perhaps you saw something innocent and your dreams turned it into something scarier. Maybe you saw animal shadows?" Da Vinci Code shrugs helplessly. Bandana puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Regardless, if you need help or see anything else, don't hesitate to contact me," Duck hands Bandana a card. "Apologies in advance if radio doesn't work, it's not always the most reliable thing out here."  
  
Duck bids the backpackers farewell, and starts the hike back to the truck. As soon as he's out of sight and earshot, he breaks into a run. Something very bad is coming for Kepler, if it isn't already there, and the Pine Guard needs to know before it's too late.  
  
  
  
  
  
Aubrey stares in frozen horror out at road before she leaps out of the Subaru. Ned is lying about twenty feet away, a crumpled heap on the asphalt. "Holy shit! Ned! What were you doing in the road!? I didn't mean to hit you! You were just--there! Holy shit Ned, please say something!" she yells, running over to Ned, who groans a little.  
  
"Oh god, why did it have to be this?" he manages. "Huh? Why did what have to be this?" Aubrey demands as she helps Ned sit up, hands shaking. It's dark now, cloudy, and she thinks she can smell rain. "Why did I have to get put out of commission like this?! And by a damn Subaru, no less. It should've been some monster. Hell, I shoulda let Kirby--OW!" Ned howls in pain as Aubrey's hand glides over his upper arm. He figures it must have been shock that prevented it before, but now the pain is jarring, all consuming, wretched.  
  
"Shit, Ned, I think your arm is broken, it doesn't feel right, you need to get to the hospital," Aubrey stammers. Ned blinks up at her, the glare of headlights wreaking havoc on his vision (also probably the concussion, goddammit), but he will swear in a court of law that two figures are lurking just beyond the guardrail on the other side of the road.  
  
"Wait, what about Kirby? Your assistant? Did he-did he bite your head off too?" she asks. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. Aubrey we need to get to Amnesty, something's not right in the town, I think we missed--"  
  
"Some Bom-Boms, yeah that's what I've been thinking too! Something really weird happened in Gino's tonight--well, weirder than normal, anyways." Ned grimaces. "Don't look, but I think we have company. Behind you, fifty feet, by the guardrail. If we just get in the contraption, pretend we haven't noticed, I think we'll be alright," he hisses to Aubrey through gritted teeth. Aubrey takes a deep breath.  
  
"Alright, but first I'm gonna wrap your arm up a little," she announces, and pulls off her leather jacket. Quickly, she rests Ned's forearm in it and ties the sleeves around his neck, making a hasty sling. Then without another word, she puts her arm around his waist, pulls his good arm around her shoulder, and hauls him bodily from the ground.  
  
"Good God, give a man some warning kid!" he groans (not pathetically), and shuffles with her to the Subaru. Aubrey rolls her eyes and yanks open the car door, depositing Ned on the passenger seat.  
  
The next ten minutes are spent in tense silence as Aubrey drives and Ned takes shallow breaths, trying not to disturb his arm, which he's fairly certain is both broken and dislocated. Finally, they turn off the highway and Aubrey drives carefully down the dirt track, not wanting to screw up her tires. A quick glance in the rearview mirror turns into a double take. "Ummmm, Ned? Is Kirby an, _athletic_ sort of guy?" Aubrey queries. Ned cracks an eye open. "I have not observed any athletic prowess on his part--oh no. Oh God, don't tell me he's--"  
  
"Yeah, he's kinda chasing the car," Aubrey reports, staring at the dogged figure in the mirror. Ned groans out "keep your eyes on the road! Two eyes and two hands at all times!" Aubrey laughs wildly as she stomps down on the accelerator, adrenaline blazing through her system.  
  
They tear up Amnesty Lodge's drive and screech to a halt in front of the heavy oak doors. Aubrey leaps out of the car and runs around to the passenger side in time to catch Ned as he nearly faceplants into the gravel. "C'mon Ned, it's ten feet we can do it!" Aubrey calls as she runs to the door and heaves it open, leaving Ned to stagger along. "Easy for you to say! You don't have brain swelling!" Ned pants back as he hustles himself up the steps.  
  
"CHICANE! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!" Comes Kirby's shriek out of the dark, just as a crack of lightning splits the sky. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!" Ned chants under his breath as he finally staggers into the main room of the lodge, Aubrey banging the door shut and locking it. "Can someone bring some chairs? A table would probably be good too," she calls to a dumbstruck crowd of residents gathered around the fireplace.  
  
"Barclay, bring me your strongest brandy and the first aid kit!" Ned bellows with a ghoulish grin, swaying where he stands. Kirby starts pounding on the doors, making them rattle in their frames, jarring Aubrey, and echoing in the domed room. _Nobody_ could be that strong after running, what, fifteen miles in the dark?!  
  
Mama bursts into the room from her office behind the welcome desk, shotgun out, Barclay hustling after her. "Alright now, you heard what the Lady Flame said! Get these chairs and tables in front of that door! Rey, get everyone into the kitchen 'cept those who can fight, Zosha get the med kit and see to Mr. Chicane here," Momma barks out orders and people start running. Aubrey guides Ned to a comfy armchair so several deceptively strong residents can shove furniture against the main doors.  
  
"Not to point fingers, Ned, but what the heck did you say to him?" Barclay asks, and Aubrey's fairly certain he's only being half sarcastic. Ned mutters some choice words as Zosha unzips the medkit and sets to work on Ned's arm. Aubrey retreats with Barclay to talk with Momma who's glowering at everyone.  
  
"Aubrey, what in the hell is going on? Who is tryin' to get into these premises? And why do I feel like it has something to do with Chicane's bad manners?" Aubrey holds out her hands placatingly. "Momma I don't know what's got Kirby all, 'The Other Side of the Door', but I think it's like what happened on my shift today," and she goes on to explain the horrible customers, how they leaned greedily towards her fire. Momma scowls even harder. "Damn. I hate to think an Abomination could slip through on our watch, but I guess it's happened. First time for everything. Alright, here's what we're gonna do," and without any further ado, Momma kicks aside a coffee table then unlocks and flings open the door. It's started to rain, so Kirby is a little wet, but that doesn't stop Momma from grabbing him by the front of the shirt and hauling him bodily inside. Aubrey, Barclay, and the rest of the makeshift fighting force gape.  
  
"What have I said about standin' around catchin' flies? Barricade that door up, the night's still young, and we've got a whole lot of company," Momma commands, as Kirby wiggles and yells helplessly in her grip. Another crack of lightning illuminates the yard, and Aubrey can see figures among the trees, jerking and curling in grotesque movements, and she slams the door shut once more. ****


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i started this before the mcel-boys had even decided to do amnesty for season two, so literally nothing will be canon. except accidentally. which was a weird experience, listening to the first episode and realizing i'd guessed some stuff correctly. anyway, hope you like it.

Duck drives as fast as he dares along the bumpy and rutted back road, trying to get a plan together for when he gets to Kepler, when Minerva appears in the truck cab beside him. Not seated wherever she is projecting herself from, Minerva's head disappears through the roof of the cab and her bottom half presumably extends below the vehicle. Minerva hasn't made contact with Duck since that day, back in August, when he finally let that old weight settle on his shoulders. Now, he tries to keep from swerving off the road and yelling profanities at a messenger from another world.  
  
"Duck Newton? Duck Newton where are you? This is where I was led, why can I not see you!" comes Minerva's strident tones from the roof of the truck. Duck grips the steering wheel very tightly and calls "if you just sit down, it'll be fine! Trust me!" A moment's silent hesitation, then the glowing white figure's blank face lowers into view. "Curious! How do you move at such speeds without Sylph energy, it should not be possible," Minerva exclaims.  
  
"Well, I don't know what you're talking about but here we have something called a combustion engine--alright I can't do this, Minerva why are you here? Six months, not a word, while the Pine Guard cleans up all kinds of Abominations? What kind of vision guide, prophecy giving spook are you," Duck snaps irritably, taking the turn off the dirt road onto the highway far too quickly, spitting gravel and loose asphalt behind him. Minerva seems to figure out how to appear to sit on the passenger seat and settles in.  
  
"I felt I would be an unwelcome intrusion in your life unless the event was of grave importance pertaining to the prophecy, Duck Newton. Was this assumption wrong?" Minerva asks carefully. "Yes, it was, you could have said that back then and I would've said something like 'let's sync up our calendars, plan on a monthly check-in unless there's an emergency' and we wouldn't be having this conver--" Minerva flickers out of existence.  
  
"--sation. Well shit," Duck grumbles to the empty cab. A few minutes later he pulls into his driveway, takes several deep breaths, and picks up the radio. "Devine this is Newton, come in, over."  
  
"Newton this is Devine, I read you, over."  
  
"Found the source of the signal, backpackers with permits, over.  
  
"Glad to hear all's well. What's your ETA, over."  
  
"No ETA, I think we're finished for the day. Head home and I'll see you tomorrow, over.  
  
"Understood. Weather Service issued an alert for flash flooding, just a head's up. See you tomorrow, Devine out.  
  
Duck switches the channel on the radio and starts trying to signal Momma, but only alternating silence and static come through, so he throws it down and hops down from the truck and hurries into his house. "You are early, Duck, for what purpose are you going to grudgingly use me for this afternoon?" Beacon's gravelly, menacing drawl comes from the kitchen before Duck can even shut the front door.  
  
"We missed an Abomination coming through the gate, so yeah, we're up," Duck says shortly, lifting Beacon down from its shelf. The sword mutters to itself, but doesn't protest against being shoved in Duck's backpack. Then Duck's out the door, back in the truck, and flying towards Amnesty Lodge despite the steady rain that's begun to fall.  
  
  
When Duck finally gets the lodge in his sights a tense fifteen minutes later, he whistles in shock. A veritable wall of shadows, like the one he saw trailing behind Farley this morning, crowds against the front of the lodge. They twist and shimmer and dance in sick waves, like the scene in Fantasia, 'Night on Bald Mountain', that would send young Duck into hysterics of fear. Duck pulls the truck to the side of the road and kills the engine; Aubrey's car is just visible through the shadows, the doors still open and lights still on. "I don't suppose it is time for me to emerge, is it," Beacon drawls sarcastically from Duck's bag.  
  
Without responding, he steps out of the truck, slams the door loudly, and pulls sword out of the bag. Several of the shadow creatures drift towards him, and with a flick of his wrist Duck extends Beacon to its full, unyielding, razor-sharp length. "Got a bit of a mess to clean up here, Beacon," Duck says. Beacon gives a smug, unctuous chuckle before responding "I thought you'd never ask, Duck Newton."  
  
  
  
  
"Was this always part of the plan!?" Aubrey exclaims as Kirby struggles against Momma's strong grip. "It is now! Barclay, get his other arm," Momma retorts as Barclay manages to restrain Kirby a little bit. "What the hell!!! I thought you were gonna give me shelter, or political asylum or something! Don't let him--ow! Quit poking me!" Ned interrupts himself to snap at Zosha. Barclay rolls his eyes and says a little impatiently "this is a hotel, not an embassy Ned. We're just trying to keep everyone alive."  
  
“But like, inviting the scary screaming stalker inside is part of that plan?” Aubrey protests as Momma and Barclay continue to struggle with Kirby, who hasn’t shown any sign of slowing or calming down.  
  
“So what we’re saying is, this isn’t like Kirby at all….and the people at Gino’s had reactions all outta whack over the broken plate…maybe the same thing is causing people to go bananas, but what do we do to calm him down?” Aubrey reasons out loud. She feels oddly alone, in the moment, Barclay and Momma distracted with Kirby and Ned out of it with pain. But she can do this, she’s a smart capable woman who can conjure fire-  
  
“Wait I know what’ll work!” Aubrey exclaims and with a snap she conjures a two-foot-tall flame out of her palm. Kirby’s reaction is almost instantaneous, his flailing faltering and his eyes glazing over. “Mmm, yeah that’s that good shit, right, you possessed weirdo? Yes it is,” she says triumphantly.  
  
“You weren’t exaggerating that story a lick, were you!” Momma exclaims, cautiously loosening her tight grip on Kirby, Barclay following suit a moment later. “You’re getting real good at controlling the fire like that!” He compliments Aubrey, who grins.  
  
Kirby practically floats toward Aubrey, and she carefully leads him over to the rug in front of the huge fireplace. With another *click* from her fingers the fire whooshes into the grate and begins to crackle merrily. Thankfully no one had shut the fireplace down quite yet for the spring. “That should be enough while we figure out what to do with that horde out there,” Momma sighs, and pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket to mop her brow. Barclay begins rolls up his sleeves, staring intently at Ned on the couch, who looks shifty.  
  
“Not to interrupt too brazenly, but Ned here does have a dislocated shoulder, a hairline fracture in his humerus, and a broken ulna so if I could get a hand…” Zosha interjects delicately. Barclay doesn’t even hesitate, just gently shoos the medic out of his way, and takes Ned's shoulder in two huge, firm hands.  
  
“Hey, now, Barclay? Are we sure you’re the right guy to be doing delicate—“  
  
“I’m going to do it on three, okay Ned? One--”  
  
“No not okay wait one second!”  
  
“NED. You saw what’s out there, there’s a fucking army of wraith creatures knocking on the door, we can’t get to a hospital right now, and you’re just going to keep being in pain if we don’t fix this! Zosha is a great medic, but he's not strong enough to go putting bones back in sockets. So take a deep breath, it's going to be fine. Maybe Momma will give you some of her fruit leather to bite down on,” Barclay says sternly. Ned gapes at him for a moment, then nods mutely. Momma flips Barclay off behind his back, and Aubrey stifles a snort of laughter.  
  
“Okay Ned, I’ll do it on three. One, two,--“ and with a rough *pop*! Ned’s shoulder no longer hangs at an unnatural angle. He screams once, a short agonized sound, sweat popping out on his brow. “You’re a little sneak!” Ned wheezes as Zosha rushes in to cut off his shirt and begin treating his other injuries. Barclay smiles ruefully and says “better to take you by surprise, that way you don’t tense up.”  



	5. Chapter 5

  
Up to this point, Duck has only used Beacon a handful of times. Mostly to deal some kind of killing blow to an abomination, so just a few seconds at a time and with the most rudimentary of moves. So now, as he cuts his way through the horde of shadows (which are not at all incorporeal but instead made of some kind of disgusting slime) he distantly observes that he doesn’t remember how long he’s been fighting. It could be ten minutes, or four hours, Duck doesn’t know.  
  
Beacon keeps up a steady, disgusting commentary as they kill, the creatures falling to the grass leaving burn marks and an acrid scent.  
  
Duck finally understands what the phrase ‘like an extension of your arm’ means: Beacon is no longer a sword because there's no distinction where Duck's arm ends and Beacon begins. Duck barely thinks of his next moves and targets and Beacon is there, practically making his arm swing around and attack the targets without pause; sometimes as a traditional sword, sometimes as a lethal and terrifying metal whip.  
  
Then it’s over, and Duck is left in the empty driveway, Beacon out in front of him defending against the next attack. “The creatures have fled, Duck Newton, don’t stand here like a fool,” Beacon chastises him. Duck gasps in a breath, and then another, throwing Beacon away from him. His heart is double-timing in his chest, and drops his hands to his knees, shaking with effort.  
  
“Why are you so surprised at what we can do, Duck? We were made for each other. We are crafted and intended to defend mercilessly, and there will be many more battles such as these—“  
  
"I’m out of breath you cussed hunk of metal, can you be quiet for two seconds?” Duck snaps, trying to shake the disorientation and dissociation from his mind. “It is fortunate that I’m an inanimate object, Duck Newton, otherwise you would be in danger of hurting my feelings, and I don’t think either of us would _enjoy that_ ,” Beacon snarls back, curling up its blade, teeth bared in an ugly grimace.  
  
That’s one of the things he hates the most about young, stupid Duck Newton. Swords don't need creepy mouths.  


  
“I can’t torch anything, Ned, because firstly my girlfriend is in this lodge _made of wood_ , and secondly we’re in the middle of the woods. Preeeeetty sure Duck would kill me before any Bom-bom could. Oh, where’s Duck anyway?” Aubrey turns to Momma with her question while Ned grumbles to himself. Momma shakes her head.  
  
“Haven’t heard a peep outta him in goin’ on a week. Last time he radioed was last week warning us about an aggressive black bear in the area, but that was about it. I’m sure we can radio him and get him up here.” Barclay, collapsed on the couch between a tetchy Ned and hypnotized Kirby, looks extremely skeptical, but says “I can go do that, guess havin’ that creepy sword around would be good right about now.”  
  
Barclay heads into Momma’s office, Zosha begins packing up the med kit, and Aubrey takes the opportunity to poke her head into the kitchen. The residents are sitting on whatever flat surfaces they can find, attempting to get comfortable; Aubrey can feel the tension in the room, but no one seems to be outright panicking. It’s disappointing that they all seem to be used to this kind of thing. Dani is sitting on the counter, fiddling with her magical ring, and she perks up when Aubrey comes in.  
  
“How’s it going out there?”  
  
“Could be better, could be worse. Ned’s okay for now, and we’re trying to get ahold of Duck. How are you?” Aubrey asks, leaning into her girlfriend’s side. “Well, mostly we’re all just physically uncomfortable. I don’t know why we haven’t put an actual table and chairs set in here, so make do,” Dani smiles, but Aubrey can see the anxiety in her eyes.  
  
“Y’know you look adorable sitting on the counter like that, right?” Aubrey murmurs in Dani’s ear, squeezing her hand. Dani giggles and squeezes Aubrey’s hand back.  
  
A loud bang from the common area makes everyone in the kitchen start and Aubrey whip around. “It’s okay, I’ll be right back, nobody panic!” Aubrey announces brightly, then bolts from the room.  
  
Momma has her shotgun out and pointed into the gap something has made in trying to open the front door, as the pile of furniture has actually done its job and kept the the intruder out. Ned is struggling to rise from the couch, and Barclay has a hand on his bracelet.  
  
“Don’t shoot! It’s me! It’s Duck Newton!” A muffled but familiar voice calls out. Aubrey sighs in relief and Ned slumps back down. Momma and Barclay don’t move an inch.  
  
“You been infected by those creatures Duck?” Momma calls. “No, I got rid of ‘em all, none of them touched me,” he calls back. Another beat, and Momma finally lowers the gun. “Alright, let’s not leave him in the rain,” she says and pulls a side table away from the door.  
  
A few minutes later Duck stands at the fireplace, trying to work some feeling back into his hands, closely eyeing Kirby who’s still entranced by the flames. “How long’s he been like that?” he asks. Aubrey just finished filling Duck in on the alarming changes happening to the citizens of Kepler.  
  
“Ten minutes? He was chasing my car down the highway, after I hit Ned with it, so he might be a little exhausted,” Aubrey replies. “What are we planning to do with him?” Duck asks next. All five of them stare at Kirby speculatively for a couple moments.  
  
Jake pokes his head out of the kitchen and asks “hey can we join the party? Seems like things are chill again!” Duck crosses his arms and says “no you may not, this is a Pine Guard only ‘party’, sir.” Jake looks devastated, and shuts the kitchen door with a sad little click. “I still don’t understand why you hate the guy so much,” Aubrey says sadly. Duck pointedly ignores her.  
  
“You think maybe we could talk to him when he’s like this?” Ned speaks up. “Well if he can, he’s sure as shootin’ not gonna respond to you,” Momma snorts. Duck nods in agreement, then takes a knee in front of Kirby, careful not to block the flames from the young man’s line of sight. “Hey Kirby, how’re you doing? Can you hear me?” Duck asks in his calmest ‘friendly-teaching-ranger’ voice. A full ten seconds go by without a glimmer of acknowledgment, but then Kirby blinks.  
  
“It’s Ranger Newton, remember me from the high school Career Fair, back in the day? You asked me if I’d ever seen the Jersey Devil, six different ways, trying to get me to confess,” Duck says. “ _Have_ you seen the Jersey Devil?” Aubrey queries, but Momma shushes her.  
  
Kirby nods, more of a head tilt than anything else, and the tension in the room ratchets up. “Great, what’s the last thing you can remember today? Why'd you chase Ned out of the Cryptonomica?” A tiny frown mars the blissed out expression on Kirby’s face. Duck waits, and everyone else shifts restlessly, but Kirby doesn’t (or can’t) say anything.  
  
“Right, maybe this is a yes/no conversation. Okay, you remember getting to the Cryptonomica?” Kirby gives a tiny shake of his head. “Do you remember leaving your house?” For a full minute, there’s no sound except the crackle of flames and Barclay nervously cracking his knuckles. Momma looms over Kirby. Aubrey hovers behind Ned.  
  
Finally, Kirby fully nods. It's slow, almost like he can't quite use his muscles correctly, but it's there. “Look—he’s twitching his wrist all weird—is that--why are you jerking it!? What the hell, Kirby?” Aubrey exclaims, pointing at Kirby’s left wrist, which is indeed moving in a vaguely sexual way. Duck reaches for the sleeve as Ned attempts to scoot even further away from his employee.  
  
“Don’t! We got no way of knowing if you can infect yourself by touching a victim,” Momma snaps and Duck jerks his hand back. “I’ve been around him all day and I’m fine,” Ned reminds her tetchily. Aubrey ends the brewing argument by reaching over and grabbing Kirby’s sleeve, stilling his hand. With her other hand on his elbow, she works the sleeve up Kirby’s arm.  
  
“Aubrey! Did you not just hear—“  
  
“It’s alright, Momma I’m not touching his—okay that’s, yeah, definitely don’t wanna touch that,” Aubrey interrupts herself. Duck’s seen plenty of gross things—hikers with nasty gashes and broken bones, dead and rotting animal carcasses, that Abomination from the previous fall—but this thing on Kirby’s arm makes him recoil.  
  
A greyish-green rash, what almost looks like lichen or fungus, is covering most of Kirby’s forearm; it glistens slightly, and as they all bend closer the rash spreads a centimeter or two up Kirby’s arm. Aubrey practically throws his arm away from herself and stumbles back, Kirby’s once again motionless and entirely focused on the fire in the fireplace.  
  
“Gross! What the fuck is that?!” she exclaims, rubbing her hands on her jeans. Momma grimaces and says “I don’t know, but it’s got a hold in Kepler now. We’re all on red alert until we get this thing corralled. Barclay you better get everyone off to their rooms, and fire up the coffee pot, ‘cause we got some plannin’ to do.”  
  
“Dammit,” Duck sighs.  
  
“Can I maybe go to the hospital now?” Ned slurs.  
  
“Well dunk,” Aubrey says.  



	6. Chapter 6

  
While Duck volunteers to drive Ned the forty four minutes to and from Pocahontas Memorial Hospital, Aubrey and Barclay hunch over the communal desktop computer, using Google Maps to figure out where Kirby might have been overtaken by the slime creatures. It’d been a tense few minutes getting ahold of Kirby’s wallet, but Barclay finally bit the bullet and rifled the kid’s pockets.  
  
“Hey Barclay, I know Momma called in a few favors to try and figure out why I’m magic and stuff, but, do you think it’s too much to ask if I…or we…or just me, I don’t know, could visit Silvain? Maybe ask the people over there if they know what’s up?” Aubrey asks quietly, glancing quickly over at the fireplace where Momma has her books spread on the coffee table and gun at her elbow. Barclay squints at Kirby’s beat up driver’s license and starts typing the address one handed. Aubrey rolls her eyes and plucks the plastic out of his hands.  
  
“Why are you asking me, Aubrey? You just ask Momma, she won’t get mad. Will you read me the address again?” Barclay says tersely. After she tells him Kirby’s address for the third time, and it finally comes up on Google Maps, she says “Barclay. Y’don’t need to worry about me…trying to usurp your position. With Momma. You and her have gone through stuff I can’t even pretend to imagine, and I know you’re her right hand ma—person. Squatch?”  
  
Barclay glowers at the screen. “Yeah I guess I know that. Just, I know I keep sayin’ it, but we haven’t had anyone new in the Pine Guard in a while, and I really *am* glad you’re here, Aubrey. What I said last September, I really mean it. But sometimes you can’t stop feelin’ how you feel,” Barclay admits. “I apologize. And thanks, for calling me out on my shit.” Aubrey smiles and gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder.  
  
“Anytime, Barclee.”  
  
“You know that’s not how I pronounce my name.”  
  
“That’s your nickname! But seriously, Barclay, I really need to know. It’s like, doubling down on me that I don’t know about my past and I don’t like that. People keep secrets from each other, but that’s not my thing, y’know?” Barclay laughs and says “yeah I think I know that about you by now, Aubrey.”  
  
“And I asked you because, well, you’re a Sylph. I think it’s dumb that you can’t go back, and fucked up that I have to ask someone else from Earth if I could go to the place where _you_ were born,” Aubrey continues. Barclay opens his mouth, closes it, clears his throat, and says “well, guess that’s something we’ll figure out once we got this little problem out of the way.”  
  
Aubrey lets the conversation drop, and concentrates on the map. She and Barclay show Momma where Kirby could have been attacked, between his house and the Cryptonomica. They also mark where Duck’s hikers saw the shadows, and where the Pine Guard had witnessed strange behavior in Kepler’s citizens.  
  
“Duck and Ned should be back soon, then we can really strategize,” Momma calls across the common room as she puts another log on the fire. Barclay goes into the kitchen to tidy it up and start the coffee maker. Aubrey makes herself comfortable on the hearthrug and peers at the books on the coffee table.  
  
“Do you know how to use a radio, Aubrey?” Momma asks, squinting thoughtfully at the young woman.  
  
“I still have my CB radio from when I was touring, I’ve used that. Why?” Momma shakes her head ruefully. “Lord forgive me, I’ve been slackin’ on teaching you the important things. You oughta know how to use a real radio system like we got out here. It could save a lot of necks in a moment of crisis.”  
  
Momma gets up and motions Aubrey to follow her into the office, and Aubrey follows. In her opinion, Momma hasn’t been slacking at all in teaching her things, Aubrey now knows lots of things. How to start a fire without a lighter, tie a tourniquet, ward off things with silver and salt. She feels more secure in her abilities to be a member of the Pine Guard.  


  
Duck is sitting in a wildly uncomfortable chair outside Ned’s curtained cubicle in the Pocahontas Memorial Hospital Emergency Room when his radio crackles to life, a garbled voice saying his name. Several nurses glare at him as he shoulders out the door, through the waiting room, and out into the mostly empty parking lot.  
  
“This is Duck, over.”  
  
“Hey Duck! Momma’s showing me how to use the radio! Uh, over.”  
  
“Well that’s good. Ned’s getting’ patched up here, we’ll be back soon, over.”  
  
“Oh good. Was the drive quiet? No more attacks? Over.”  
  
“Well, few of the nurses are giving me dirty looks, but I can’t be sure if that’s a possession or just overworked people, over.”  
  
“Okay. Barclay and Momma and I are trying to put some of the pieces together, so we’ll be ready to plot! Over,” Aubrey says cheerfully. Duck heaves a deep sigh and rubs his forehead, trying to muster up some shred of optimism for his young friend.  
  
“That’s real good Aubrey, we’ll see yah soon. Ranger Newton out.” Aubrey replies in kind, and Duck is left with the bitterly cold April wind whipping stray strands of hair against his face. He carefully pulls his hair down and attempts to make a more secure ponytail.  
  
“Ranger Newton, your friend is about to be released. We need to give you instructions on taking care of his injuries,” a nurse calls impatiently from the E.R. doors. Duck leaves his hair alone (several stray hairs trapped under his forestry jacket collar) and follows the nurse in.  
  
All-in-all, Ned has a cracked rib, a fractured ulna, and a previously dislocated shoulder. Duck gave the doctors the explanation that Ned had radioed him out of not wanting to pay for an ambulance ride after a very heavy trunk fell on him. For once Duck was grateful for Ned’s eccentric appearance, because one look at him and the doctors swallowed Duck’s story.  
  
The trip home isn’t as quiet as Duck hoped, because Ned finds Beacon and starts chatting loopily with it on the way back to the Lodge.  
  
“So what are you getting out of this? Y’don’t _like_ Duck, he’s just kinda, kinda here to hold you huh. What’s up with that?” Ned slurs, holding Beacon out in front of him. Duck counts his blessings that the sheriff’s department doesn’t pull over National Forest trucks, otherwise he’d have a lot of explaining to do.  
  
“I am an inanimate object, you sad, trashy hoarder. I do not have _feelings_ , I cannot like or dislike Duck Newton. However there is a purpose I serve, and when I am _not_ serving it I feel compelled to point out that there are far better candidates to complete my mission in this world,” Beacon replies acidly.  
  
"I will agree on that point, Beacon doesn't have feelings. But he does have opinions. And an attitude," Duck supplies. Beacon and Ned completely ignore him, and the rest of their chat is comprised of Ned claiming he isn’t trashy, but a sword with a mouth is absolutely tacky, and Beacon listing off every single piece of junk Ned had ever put in his ‘Chicanery’. Duck tunes them out.  
  
Upon their return to Amnesty, Ned is put to bed in a guest room, and Barclay has steaming cups of coffee ready for the Pine Guard. The plotting goes late into the night, interrupted only by the need for firewood to keep Kirby's distraction aflame, and a plan is formed. By the time they all drag themselves to their respective (or borrowed) beds, Duck feels hopeful again.  



End file.
